Monday, January 29, 2018

A Castration Tale - Published

As noted in the June 16 posting, this short story has been unpublished, the narrative included in the book 'A Castration Tale - The Complete Story'.

CB on 6/16


I have published on Lulu the referenced short story. 7,900 words. $3.50.

There will be another snippet posted on Saturday 2/3. 


Sunday, January 28, 2018

A Castration Tale II

A train to Ridgewood, New Jersey, Google maps indicates a two block walk to a large house just off the business district, a home converted to a professional office. Easily found, I ring the doorbell. When I hear a buzz I know to press open the door. 

And there to greet me stands the stunning Greta Donhoffer, indeed tall, indeed blonde, and the 175 pounds most impressively apportioned. Yes, her crisp white uniform does little to veil that the woman is shapely, and in an athletic manner. And those blue eyes...

“Mr. Carson, you’re late,” standing arms akimbo, the German accent thick but her English discernible.

Having emailed a photo, amongst other particulars, she knows who enters... her 11:00 a.m appointment has arrived.

“Ah, the train... some sort of signal failure,” for some reason my voice faltering.

“Take an earlier train for your next appointment,” her tone more commanding than suggesting.

I nod, hoping my gulp of concern is not evident.

“I will not be here to greet you in future visits. So listen carefully to the protocol. I am strict and demanding. A clear and precise regimen instills discipline.”

I nod, my voice lost.

“You will place my fee here on the desk, under the paperweight. You will then disrobe... entirely. Place your clothing on this table... neatly folded... shoes beneath. If there is someone in the reception area, just ignore them. This is a professional office and all are expected to comport themselves civilly and professionally.”

I again silently nod, seeing that the paperweight is a well sculpted depiction of a woman in uniform assuming an imposing stance of authority. Nurse Donhoffer notes my distraction.  

“A gift... when I retired from the armed services.”

There comes a pause... awkward silence.


I fumble for the fee, $300 in cash, more than I am accustomed to paying for a session of kink. But the exchange of emails and the forthright, explicit descriptions of services to be offered is too... too... enticing?

I lift the statue...heavy... not a cheap hunk of tin... and dispense the small pile of greenbacks. I then pause... I always do... momentarily questioning my sexual penchant.

“Mr. Carson, we’re already running late!” the accented words sharp and commanding.

So I disrobe, stepping to the small table, shoes beneath, jacket peeled away, slacks drawn down and folded followed by shirt, socks and underwear.

“And we like our patients to place their hands on their head when moving about in the sanitarium,” Nurse Donhoffer’s hands demonstrably going to the back of her white cap.

With arms raised, the firm breasts thrust forth. I try not to stare while complying, sensing the somatic reaction of presenting myself nude in the presence of a fully clothed woman... a fully clothed woman of authority. My penis begins to firm.

“To the basement. Follow me,” grateful to move about before I completely stiffen.

Saturday, January 27, 2018

A Castration Tale I

A short story. Not sure if I will post in its entirety or publish on Lulu.

Since this is a short post, look for more tomorrow


A Castration Tale

Copyright 2018

by Chris Bellows

    Licensed, highly experienced nurse available for males needing to acquiesce to special procedures   and  examinations. 

The Craig’s listing was brief but intriguing. After many hours of thought, I replied with an email. There is something about the anonymity of the process which emboldens, words which I would rarely speak pouring forth from my word processor.

Age, ethnicity, height, weight, location, marital status... single... the usual disclosure... but when contemplating how to phrase my ‘special request’, the word acquiesce came to haunt. Why not ‘needing to undergo’, ‘engage in’?

Perhaps the writer of the short missive intended to titillate the kinky mind... perhaps not. Any way, I wrote, expressing concerns over my prostate, suggesting an examination, a ‘go for it’ reply. If the author of the Craig’s listing did not intend to attract the paraphillic mind, so be it.

Within a day... bingo! A very explicit response... even bolder than my introductory reply.

Nurse Greta Donhoffer wrote back, describing herself as age 38, blonde, an impressive 6 ft. and some 175 lbs. The prostate gland of the single male, she emphasized, requires much attention. Thus a special examination was highly recommended... and more than one.      

My penis swelled in reading the words.

Phone number, office hours, approximate location, somewhat inconvenient in the suburbs, but near a train station, the completeness of the contact information assuaged any concerns over the authenticity of the prospective services. I concluded Nurse Greta Donhoffer was for real.